I just got home from seeing the movie The Help with some girlfriends. This actually has nothing to do with the movie (which was really good and I highly recommend it!) but it just got me thinking...what will the movies 50 years from now reveal about our lives? What things accepted as "normal" in society now will seem horrendous to our grandchildren?
The Help (based on a book by the same title) is about black maids telling their stories about working for white southern women. Treating someone like a servant (or slave) is totally foreign to me, but I can't help but wonder what I would really think if I had been raised that way. I would never treat someone as less than an equal, would I? Do I treat all my neighbors on this planet the way I would like to be treated? It's appalling to look back into history to see how (some) white people treated (some) black people. It feels like slavery and segregation are some archaic mistakes that don't affect us anymore, but the sad truth is that it is all relatively recent history! Even more sad, slavery isn't dead. It just has a different face.
I'm thinking about all the plastic crap that is made in China. (I'm also thinking about all the other disgusting faces of current slavery that will haunt me if I spend too much time thinking about them.) So, I'm going to stick to slavery I support, however reluctantly. Buying cheap things made in cheap factories for cheap prices isn't worth the money "saved". There are SOULS working in factories, getting grossly underpaid and overworked just to save us a dime. When I take a moment to think about WHO made the majority of the THINGS I'd like to buy....well, I realize I want less. I'll be honest, this is hard. I like stuff and I don't have a lot of money. I probably will get my kids a Happy Meal toy here and there. The computer I'm typing on now was probably pieced together by starving children for all I know. I would have to go without a lot of stuff if I truly wanted to avoid supporting slavery. How do I find balance in this? If I buy Fair Trade the rest of my life, will that even make a difference?
I don't have the answers. And this is only one example.
It's much easier to judge the cruelty of past generations.
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
Dreams and Idiots
I had a dream last night: I was rushing to catch a bus...or was I rushing through an airport? Maybe both. I was "driving" a wheelchair with my one-year-old on my lap, one hand on the wheel and one arm struggling to keep him from falling off my lap. It seems there were constant ramps making the wheelchair speed faster and faster. Just when I thought I'd lose control, I'd skid to a spot where I could put my feet down just long enough to catch a little balance before the next decline. Sounds exactly like a metaphor for my reality!
When I finally reached the terminal (the wheelchair and baby had left the scene), I tripped and whacked my leg on a railing or something. As I was "rubbing it out" like my grandma taught me, I noticed rows and rows of people watching me, snickering. After all I had been through, my desire to be polite was non-existent...so I yelled, "What are you laughing at, you IDIOTS!!? I hope it hurts REALLY bad the next time you smack yourself...and you WILL!!"
I'd have to say this dream was spot on. I am getting to the point in my life where I'm tired of wasting energy on people who simply don't deserve it. I fully intend to stop trying to win the affection of people who just don't like me and face the fact that there are some people that I don't like...and I am better off just staying away from them. Please don't misunderstand me. I am referring to the type of people who will listen to your hardships, but inwardly snicker and judge. I am referring to the type of people who just don't understand and don't care to take the time to understand. I just don't have energy for them.
And therein lies the one of the many duplicities of human life. My heart is full of love one moment and I'm ready to kick an idiot in the shin the next.
When I finally reached the terminal (the wheelchair and baby had left the scene), I tripped and whacked my leg on a railing or something. As I was "rubbing it out" like my grandma taught me, I noticed rows and rows of people watching me, snickering. After all I had been through, my desire to be polite was non-existent...so I yelled, "What are you laughing at, you IDIOTS!!? I hope it hurts REALLY bad the next time you smack yourself...and you WILL!!"
I'd have to say this dream was spot on. I am getting to the point in my life where I'm tired of wasting energy on people who simply don't deserve it. I fully intend to stop trying to win the affection of people who just don't like me and face the fact that there are some people that I don't like...and I am better off just staying away from them. Please don't misunderstand me. I am referring to the type of people who will listen to your hardships, but inwardly snicker and judge. I am referring to the type of people who just don't understand and don't care to take the time to understand. I just don't have energy for them.
And therein lies the one of the many duplicities of human life. My heart is full of love one moment and I'm ready to kick an idiot in the shin the next.
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Thankfulness
We recently had a violent thunderstorm in our city. Seemingly strong trees look like they were pulled out of the ground, roots and all. Houses were smashed and power lines were yanked. We were without electricity for 3 nights. But our roof was safe. And our basement didn't flood. These are things I am VERY thankful for.
I packed up my four kids and stayed at my mom and dad's house for a couple nights. My parents have a very small home, but large love. It was strange to see my childhood home with adult eyes...to use a cereal bowl that I used for many years in the mornings before school, but now feels foreign to me. It was refreshing to be reminded just how small the bedroom is that I shared with my sister when we were kids. Refreshing...because I sometimes feel worried that my kids' rooms are too small. I sometimes worry that I am a bad parent for not providing "bigger, better, and more" for my children. There are times that my heart squeezes when I have to say "no". There is a bittersweet sting when my daughter offers her piggy bank to buy us more food. It is too tempting to focus on all the things we do not have. But I know this kind of thinking is pure folly, because we have SO MUCH.
While we fled to air conditioning in the hot weather, my husband stayed at home to work on clearing the fallen branches and broken trees in our yard. Regardless of how many hard times we have gone through and will most likely go through in the future...I am so thankful for him. It is good for my wifely soul to see my husband with chainsaw in hand, fighting against the elements. I am thankful to have a partner with skills and kind eyes that will outlive our youth. The years have taught me that my husband is definitely the first one I'd pick to be on my team. And for that, I am thankful.
Once the power came back on and we were all settled back at home, my husband and I were exhausted. Being away from home takes its toll on me. I love my own bed. Even more, I love my children all in their own beds. I like to be surrounded by things that are familiar to me. There was so much work to catch up on, it felt like we were gone for a month. I had my dishwasher, washing machine, and clothes dryer making up for lost time. Yes, I am fully aware how dependent I am on modern inventions; I will shamelessly admit it. And I am extremely thankful for them.
I am always mindful of that fact that we are "rich" simply because we have running water. Little hardships shake me up and let my thankfulness float to the surface. Our power outage was a mere irritation when compared to the atrocities happening around the world this very second. Sometimes my global empathy swells up and cripples me with tears, but it certainly keeps me...you guessed it...thankful for my life. It is a raw kind of happiness, because I know how much worse things could be. It is an emotion of action because it drives me to make the best of what I have, to improve it within my means. It makes me want to love others and live vibrantly.
Thankfulness has served me well over the years.
I know my children will "suffer" from wants not met, dreams not reached, hardships unnumbered...just as I did. And though my mother-heart wants to protect them from all hurt, I guess I just have to hope that they will learn a lifestyle of thankfulness and add depth to their souls. So, it's okay to say "no" when my son asks me to buy a new LEGO set. And an extra delight when I can say "yes".
A perfect life is not a breeding ground for thankfulness.
Monday, June 20, 2011
Movin on out
(I started this a couple weeks ago)
We're supposed to move at the end of this month! It almost feels like this is really going to happen, but I still feel like I'm living in the shadows of a dream. The picture is becoming clearer with each box packed and each big decision behind us. We came to many conclusions last month and I'm glad those sleepless nights are behind us. Sure, there are certainly more sleepless nights ahead, but those ones have passed! I feel like there is light at the end of the tunnel. Or to be less trite, perhaps a placid lake at the end of this waterfall? Hmm.
One of the biggest decisions we faced was what we should do about the duplex we currently live in. The result has me at peace and has taught me something about balance that I am only beginning to comprehend. Our first instinct was to sell and minimize our responsibilities. We have four kids, we know all about responsibilities. It would be nice to bear a lighter yoke. An opportunity to sell didn't work out the way we thought it would, but this wouldn't be the first time. We've come close to selling FOUR times now! Each time we thought we were on the road to Easy(er) Street, we were met with some irritating road block. It seems we were meant to keep this place.
(And that's where I stopped because I ran out of time to write.)
Now it's later in the month and all I can say is I'm glad I was at peace about keeping our duplex...because it looks like we'll be living here longer than we expected. It was another hard decision, and yes, it involved more sleepless nights, but we realized we'd be making a mistake if we moved at this time. The last couple weeks were pretty hard. I don't change direction very quickly, so it felt like whiplash (again) to change direction like that. I was packing and preparing everything in my mind, thinking about where all the furniture would go. I was starting to make all the arrangements involved with moving. Then, stop. Reverse. UNpack.
Life is funny. Because it's better to laugh than to cry. Sometimes.
Now, there is an upside to this story. I haven't put much energy into "settling in" here in the last year or so. We were busy remodeling the basement to make another bedroom in preparation for Baby #4. Then, last winter, we were offered the chance to move, so I started letting things slip. Pictures need to be hung, rooms need new colors painted, and my kitchen is badly in need of reorganizing. I am overwhelmed by all the work that needs to be done, but at the same time I enjoy having purpose. Goals. I like thinking of ways to make things function and flow better. There is only so much I can do with my tiny home, but I do enjoy a challenge! Though I do hope for a bigger house some day in the future, I am so thankful for what we have.
I think a part of me knew we wouldn't be moving. It just never felt "real". Looking back, I think I've had that feeling before. I'd like to recognize it better in the future. It may save me a lot of unnecessary packing. And unpacking. Both literally and metaphorically.
We're supposed to move at the end of this month! It almost feels like this is really going to happen, but I still feel like I'm living in the shadows of a dream. The picture is becoming clearer with each box packed and each big decision behind us. We came to many conclusions last month and I'm glad those sleepless nights are behind us. Sure, there are certainly more sleepless nights ahead, but those ones have passed! I feel like there is light at the end of the tunnel. Or to be less trite, perhaps a placid lake at the end of this waterfall? Hmm.
One of the biggest decisions we faced was what we should do about the duplex we currently live in. The result has me at peace and has taught me something about balance that I am only beginning to comprehend. Our first instinct was to sell and minimize our responsibilities. We have four kids, we know all about responsibilities. It would be nice to bear a lighter yoke. An opportunity to sell didn't work out the way we thought it would, but this wouldn't be the first time. We've come close to selling FOUR times now! Each time we thought we were on the road to Easy(er) Street, we were met with some irritating road block. It seems we were meant to keep this place.
(And that's where I stopped because I ran out of time to write.)
Now it's later in the month and all I can say is I'm glad I was at peace about keeping our duplex...because it looks like we'll be living here longer than we expected. It was another hard decision, and yes, it involved more sleepless nights, but we realized we'd be making a mistake if we moved at this time. The last couple weeks were pretty hard. I don't change direction very quickly, so it felt like whiplash (again) to change direction like that. I was packing and preparing everything in my mind, thinking about where all the furniture would go. I was starting to make all the arrangements involved with moving. Then, stop. Reverse. UNpack.
Life is funny. Because it's better to laugh than to cry. Sometimes.
Now, there is an upside to this story. I haven't put much energy into "settling in" here in the last year or so. We were busy remodeling the basement to make another bedroom in preparation for Baby #4. Then, last winter, we were offered the chance to move, so I started letting things slip. Pictures need to be hung, rooms need new colors painted, and my kitchen is badly in need of reorganizing. I am overwhelmed by all the work that needs to be done, but at the same time I enjoy having purpose. Goals. I like thinking of ways to make things function and flow better. There is only so much I can do with my tiny home, but I do enjoy a challenge! Though I do hope for a bigger house some day in the future, I am so thankful for what we have.
I think a part of me knew we wouldn't be moving. It just never felt "real". Looking back, I think I've had that feeling before. I'd like to recognize it better in the future. It may save me a lot of unnecessary packing. And unpacking. Both literally and metaphorically.
Sunday, May 29, 2011
Turkey 3 Days: Turkey Gravy and Spuds
I love this easy comfort food.
First step: First Day Crock Pot Turkey
Second step: Make Gravy
Third step: Add pre-cooked turkey
Serve over mashed potatoes.
First step: First Day Crock Pot Turkey
Second step: Make Gravy
Third step: Add pre-cooked turkey
Serve over mashed potatoes.
Thursday, May 26, 2011
How to Make Gravy
There are probably oodles of ways to make gravy, but this is how I do it!
The formula to remember is 1/4 cup butter, 1/4 cup flour, 2 cups broth.
In a pot over medium heat, melt about 4 T butter. Add 1/4 cup flour, whisk to mix thoroughly. When it just begins to brown, add the broth. If I don't have broth, I use water and bouillon (like Superior Touch's Better Than Bouillon).
I like to add some garlic, parsley, and poultry seasoning or rosemary for turkey/chicken gravy. I like garlic, pepper, and savory for beef. Sometimes, I just like it very plain. Use what you like! Continue to whisk.
Heat to a boil, simmer until it thickens. It will thicken more when removed from heat.
My family ate this before I could get a picture of the final product. I have a brood of gravy lovers!
The formula to remember is 1/4 cup butter, 1/4 cup flour, 2 cups broth.
In a pot over medium heat, melt about 4 T butter. Add 1/4 cup flour, whisk to mix thoroughly. When it just begins to brown, add the broth. If I don't have broth, I use water and bouillon (like Superior Touch's Better Than Bouillon).
I like to add some garlic, parsley, and poultry seasoning or rosemary for turkey/chicken gravy. I like garlic, pepper, and savory for beef. Sometimes, I just like it very plain. Use what you like! Continue to whisk.
My family ate this before I could get a picture of the final product. I have a brood of gravy lovers!
Turkey 3 Days: Turkey Noodle Soup
First step: Turkey 3 Days: First day crock pot Turkey
Start with the broth you already made. Skim the hardened fat off the top. The stock may be like Jell-O, which is actually a good thing, as gross as it may seem. (Did you know gelatin comes from bones? Now you do!)
Chop your veggies. I like onions, carrots, celery and a little garlic. (I chopped them fairly fine this time as a ploy to make it harder for the kids to pick them out!) I drizzle a little olive oil in the pot I will use for the soup, and add veggies once the oil is hot. Stir fry until the veggies just start to soften. I go by smell. It's ready when it starts smelling good!
Then, dump your stock into the pot and add water. I have a 6-quart pot, so I fill it up to about 2 inches from the top. Once the broth is heated, I toss in some dried parsley, a few shakes of poultry seasoning or Mrs. Dash or both, a pinch of nutmeg, and salt and pepper. If the flavor isn't quite right, I'll also add a spoonful of chicken base (I like Superior Touch's Better Than Bouillon).
Once the veggies are nearly fully cooked, turn up the heat, boil, and add noodles to cook a couple minutes less than the box tells you to (they will continue cooking in the pot). My favorite noodles are nice fat "homemade" egg noodles or Kluski noodles; however, Second Son is allergic to eggs, so I have switched to regular pasta. Last, turn the stove off, and add the turkey meat you boiled previously. It is already cooked, so it just needs to get heated and will also help to cool down the soup.
Yum!
Next up: Turkey Gravy and Spuds
Start with the broth you already made. Skim the hardened fat off the top. The stock may be like Jell-O, which is actually a good thing, as gross as it may seem. (Did you know gelatin comes from bones? Now you do!)
Chop your veggies. I like onions, carrots, celery and a little garlic. (I chopped them fairly fine this time as a ploy to make it harder for the kids to pick them out!) I drizzle a little olive oil in the pot I will use for the soup, and add veggies once the oil is hot. Stir fry until the veggies just start to soften. I go by smell. It's ready when it starts smelling good!
Then, dump your stock into the pot and add water. I have a 6-quart pot, so I fill it up to about 2 inches from the top. Once the broth is heated, I toss in some dried parsley, a few shakes of poultry seasoning or Mrs. Dash or both, a pinch of nutmeg, and salt and pepper. If the flavor isn't quite right, I'll also add a spoonful of chicken base (I like Superior Touch's Better Than Bouillon).
Once the veggies are nearly fully cooked, turn up the heat, boil, and add noodles to cook a couple minutes less than the box tells you to (they will continue cooking in the pot). My favorite noodles are nice fat "homemade" egg noodles or Kluski noodles; however, Second Son is allergic to eggs, so I have switched to regular pasta. Last, turn the stove off, and add the turkey meat you boiled previously. It is already cooked, so it just needs to get heated and will also help to cool down the soup.
Next up: Turkey Gravy and Spuds
Friday, May 20, 2011
Trapped
How did I start the year so optimistically and end up feeling so crappy now?
That's the thought that came to me in the shower this morning.
I think a big part of the answer is: hormones. I've always had issues with my "cycle" which is one of the many reasons I've been pregnant so many times. My body is happier being pregnant. It's certainly not more comfortable, but it beats my "normal" cycle of pain and I have WAY less migraines. Pregnancy must supply a steady flow of the right hormones. Maybe it's just easier to bear the uncomfortableness of pregnancy because it's for a great purpose. I don't know.
It's been almost a year since the birth of my fourth child, and it occurs to me that this is usually about the time that I would be thinking about getting pregnant again. But we are done having children. I won't get off that "easy" this time.
Another big part of the answer is: stress. Everyone has stress. I'm not saying I am special in this regard. But everyone has a different threshold of what they can handle. I think I'm at max-capacity again. My elevator will not leave ground level without breaking some cables.
We experienced life-changing upheaval a few years ago and I was just starting to get my head above water. Then everything changed again. It felt like everything we had been working toward was in vain. There was no more light at the end of the tunnel. No more hope for better stability in the future. My husband's career path is again unknown. I am fortunate that my husband is a hard worker and determined to provide for us. I have great respect for and faith in him. The last few years have strengthened that. I don't fear like I did years ago; I know from experience that God provides. Yet, it's hard for me to change directions. I get mental whiplash quite easily.
So, let's throw in another element: we're moving. More specifically, we're moving to a bigger house. So I should be happy, right? I'm about half happy. The other half of me is recoiling. We will be tenants for the first time in our married life, and we will have to find tenants to rent the house we currently live in. There are school districts to change, utilities to transfer, and I will miss my neighborhood. It all has me a little uneasy. I like what is familiar to me. I prefer to stay within the boundaries of my own little kingdom. And I really don't like packing. And did I mention that we'll be renting from my in-laws?
So. Those are the major things, piled on top of the day-to-day things. Too many choices, too many things to do, too much pain. I had a migraine the other day that sucked the life out of me and left me clinging to the couch waiting for my already over-worked husband to come home. These are the days that I feel like a bad mom and wife. These kind of days make me feel like I will never accomplish anything. These days press down on me and make it hard to breathe. Where do I go from here?
Getting help is almost as discouraging as the pain itself. I feel trapped. Making healthy choices is much easier when you are healthy. But trying is always better than giving up. So, here I go, one step at a time.
That's the thought that came to me in the shower this morning.
I think a big part of the answer is: hormones. I've always had issues with my "cycle" which is one of the many reasons I've been pregnant so many times. My body is happier being pregnant. It's certainly not more comfortable, but it beats my "normal" cycle of pain and I have WAY less migraines. Pregnancy must supply a steady flow of the right hormones. Maybe it's just easier to bear the uncomfortableness of pregnancy because it's for a great purpose. I don't know.
It's been almost a year since the birth of my fourth child, and it occurs to me that this is usually about the time that I would be thinking about getting pregnant again. But we are done having children. I won't get off that "easy" this time.
Another big part of the answer is: stress. Everyone has stress. I'm not saying I am special in this regard. But everyone has a different threshold of what they can handle. I think I'm at max-capacity again. My elevator will not leave ground level without breaking some cables.
We experienced life-changing upheaval a few years ago and I was just starting to get my head above water. Then everything changed again. It felt like everything we had been working toward was in vain. There was no more light at the end of the tunnel. No more hope for better stability in the future. My husband's career path is again unknown. I am fortunate that my husband is a hard worker and determined to provide for us. I have great respect for and faith in him. The last few years have strengthened that. I don't fear like I did years ago; I know from experience that God provides. Yet, it's hard for me to change directions. I get mental whiplash quite easily.
So, let's throw in another element: we're moving. More specifically, we're moving to a bigger house. So I should be happy, right? I'm about half happy. The other half of me is recoiling. We will be tenants for the first time in our married life, and we will have to find tenants to rent the house we currently live in. There are school districts to change, utilities to transfer, and I will miss my neighborhood. It all has me a little uneasy. I like what is familiar to me. I prefer to stay within the boundaries of my own little kingdom. And I really don't like packing. And did I mention that we'll be renting from my in-laws?
So. Those are the major things, piled on top of the day-to-day things. Too many choices, too many things to do, too much pain. I had a migraine the other day that sucked the life out of me and left me clinging to the couch waiting for my already over-worked husband to come home. These are the days that I feel like a bad mom and wife. These kind of days make me feel like I will never accomplish anything. These days press down on me and make it hard to breathe. Where do I go from here?
Getting help is almost as discouraging as the pain itself. I feel trapped. Making healthy choices is much easier when you are healthy. But trying is always better than giving up. So, here I go, one step at a time.
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Turkey 3 Days: First day crock pot
This is my most recent lifesaver. Turkey Breast. Supper for 3 (not necessarily consecutive) days. Hallelujah!
Day One
Crock Pot Turkey Breast
Step one starts at the grocery store. This is important: make sure the turkey breast you buy will fit in your crock pot!
I usually let the turkey thaw in the fridge for a night or two. Sometimes three. Once, I totally forgot about thawing it and put it in the sink with cold water to thaw. That worked okay, but forethought works a lot better. There is usually a big flap of fat on the end, I cut that off. The brand I buy comes with a gravy packet, which I don't use. Read the list of ingredients and you be the judge.
Pop that turkey in your slow cooker, slather on some garlic and rosemary (or poultry seasoning), salt and pepper, and a sprinkling of brown sugar. Cook on low for about 5-6 hours. Your crock pot may be different than mine, so keep an eye on it.
I usually make a pilaf or nuke some "baked" potatoes, add a veggie, and there's supper! Now, a little more work...
My family eats a little less than one half. Once I cut off the amount we will eat that night, I return the turkey to the crock, power off, until after we are done eating. Then, after supper, I remove the other half of the meat, cut into pieces, and contain for later. Then the bones and hard-to-remove-meat go back in the pot. Add water to cover, add a couple allspice balls, maybe a bay leaf, and let it go a couple hours on high.
Once the kids are out of my hair, preferably sleeping, I can remove the meat (it will fall off the bones) and strain the broth. Reserve the meat for your next meal. This whole process can get messy, but if you do it right, you will have such nice soft hands. Ha ha, you'll see what I mean when you try it! Put the broth in the fridge overnight. The fat will float to the top and harden, so it will be easy to remove later.
So, now all the hard stuff is done. Free sailing for two more days! Well, kinda.
Up next: Turkey Noodle Soup
or Turkey Gravy and spuds
Day One
Crock Pot Turkey Breast
Step one starts at the grocery store. This is important: make sure the turkey breast you buy will fit in your crock pot!
Pop that turkey in your slow cooker, slather on some garlic and rosemary (or poultry seasoning), salt and pepper, and a sprinkling of brown sugar. Cook on low for about 5-6 hours. Your crock pot may be different than mine, so keep an eye on it.
I usually make a pilaf or nuke some "baked" potatoes, add a veggie, and there's supper! Now, a little more work...
My family eats a little less than one half. Once I cut off the amount we will eat that night, I return the turkey to the crock, power off, until after we are done eating. Then, after supper, I remove the other half of the meat, cut into pieces, and contain for later. Then the bones and hard-to-remove-meat go back in the pot. Add water to cover, add a couple allspice balls, maybe a bay leaf, and let it go a couple hours on high.
Once the kids are out of my hair, preferably sleeping, I can remove the meat (it will fall off the bones) and strain the broth. Reserve the meat for your next meal. This whole process can get messy, but if you do it right, you will have such nice soft hands. Ha ha, you'll see what I mean when you try it! Put the broth in the fridge overnight. The fat will float to the top and harden, so it will be easy to remove later.
So, now all the hard stuff is done. Free sailing for two more days! Well, kinda.
Up next: Turkey Noodle Soup
or Turkey Gravy and spuds
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Frustration
I am frustrated. And exhausted. And questioning my value. I think that last thing is probably the worst. I know I don't always feel like this, and I know there is hope, but it's harder to see right now under the weight of all the things that are piling up on me.
It's hard for me to admit that I may be less than what I want to be. I guess that's why I'm writing this. If there's someone else out there who feels the same way, you are not alone. And if putting my feelings into words will help me, maybe it's a starting point. I am pulled in all directions and don't know where to start. Or maybe I know more than I should. It's all overwhelming. And frustrating.
It's hard for me to admit that I may be less than what I want to be. I guess that's why I'm writing this. If there's someone else out there who feels the same way, you are not alone. And if putting my feelings into words will help me, maybe it's a starting point. I am pulled in all directions and don't know where to start. Or maybe I know more than I should. It's all overwhelming. And frustrating.
Monday, April 25, 2011
Easter Story
Once upon a time, actually before time existed, there was God. He is not human, not male, not female...yet He is Mother and Father, God and Goddess. Actually, He is not a "he" but IT just doesn't sound very nice.
Rather than He or She, God is I AM. God is Spirit, Parent, Word, Love.
By nature, God is driven to create. Our world is his masterpiece. (Perhaps not his only masterpiece, but that is another story.) By nature, God is driven to LOVE, but love is meaningless without someone to love.
"Let's create some wonderful critters that I can love!" God stage-whispers to himself. "Better yet, let's make them creative and loving...just like me! Let's make a beautiful world for them to enjoy. Let's make them masters of their own hearts...and let's allow them to love me in return...because I AM LOVE...and that is what will make them most happy."
Enter humans,
with great potential to love and be loved.
Now, if you have ever loved, you know that love has risks, love goes beyond reason, love perseveres no matter the cost...and love is absolutely wonderful. When we love, we become our best, we become what we are meant to be. God could have created us without choice, just drones that follow his will. But he wanted us to enjoy the wild adventure, the ups and downs, the beautiful offset by the tragic, the glory of light in contrast to the depravity of darkness.
Enter evil,
the opposite of love.
"Wait a minute! Are you saying God created Evil!?" the audience protests. Tomatoes are thrown onto the stage.
Whether he created it or simply allowed it, it would not be in our world if God didn't want it to be...if it did not somehow serve a greater purpose. Is it not hardship that draws a family close? Is it not death that makes us consider our souls? Is it not an enemy who shows us our true friends? Is it not pain that leads us to healing? This wild adventure is not tame, there are roses with thorns. Evil is not something that slithered into the world when God wasn't looking. God was not taken by surprise when Eve bit into the forbidden fruit. His plan was set into motion from the very beginning. He knew all that would happen, and he knew it would all be worth it in the end.
Because Love perseveres no matter the cost.
And so, time passes, and humans thrive with truth and love written on their hearts, and humans thrive without truth and love. Families grow and prosper, armies grow and destroy. Hearts are blossomed and hearts are hardened. And God is still not surprised. But yet, he waits. Why bother inventing time if not for history to reveal its truth? History has revealed that humans need God, because they need love, because God is love. That's it. So simple. Perhaps too simple for some. Simplicity is not marketable. Simplicity has no hierarchy. Simplicity doesn't say "I'm in and you're out."
Enter religion.
Religion is living by rules rather than by love. But love has no boundary lines and doesn't play by the rules. Setting rules on love kills it. Keeping love caged with law kills it. Like evil, religion is a tool that God may use to reveal truth, but not an end to itself. Truth transcends religion, truth and love is true where ever it is found, even in the blackest pit or the highest steeple.
So, what about Jesus?
Jesus is God as a human, sent to show us the way. God with a body, sent as a sacrifice. Jesus taught with authority, he healed the sick, made the lame walk, the blind see. He got really riled up around the religious people. Actually, they were the only ones that really ticked him off. Not the prostitutes or tax collectors or lepers. Not the guys who cut a freaking HOLE in the roof to lower their crippled friend down in the middle of Jesus' teaching. Not the Samaritan woman who was known for sleeping around. Not the people who followed him around mostly looking for another meal. Not even Judas, who sold him out.
No. It was the religious folk who just didn't get it. It was the religious tables that Jesus flipped. They were expecting a king, and Jesus washed feet. They were expecting to be rewarded for keeping the rules and Jesus said it is more important to love. They were expecting to be set free from Roman rule, and Jesus taught that the Kingdom of God is in our hearts.
And so, the religious people killed him.
And God was not surprised.
This was his plan all along.
And then...
Jesus conquered death. He rose to life from the grave. And he changed the world.
I don't begin to fully understand this plan. But, for some reason, this is how we know what love is (and therefore who God is): Jesus Christ laid down his life for us. He didn't come to start a new religion, but to set us free. He came to set EVERYONE free. The religious people will tell you that you need to join a certain group or say certain words for this to be true. But when it comes to the great truths of the world, they are true always for everyone. Like gravity. It's not true only for those who believe it. It is just plain true. Simple.
But why should we believe if it doesn't matter whether we believe or not?
I'm NOT saying belief doesn't matter! I'm saying that our restoration doesn't hinge on ANYTHING we can DO. But belief changes our perspective. Believing in and following Jesus' teachings changes our life. He doesn't change us because he can't stand us, or because he has some "holier than thou" attitude (though, if anyone should, I guess it'd be God!)...He changes us, he grows our hearts, he rounds our sharp corners, he shows us joy, he strengthens us through hardships, he IS....so that we may LIVE and live the best life possible! Because humans are most fulfilled when living free and living loved! This is the GOOD NEWS that I can't keep to myself.
Rather than He or She, God is I AM. God is Spirit, Parent, Word, Love.
By nature, God is driven to create. Our world is his masterpiece. (Perhaps not his only masterpiece, but that is another story.) By nature, God is driven to LOVE, but love is meaningless without someone to love.
"Let's create some wonderful critters that I can love!" God stage-whispers to himself. "Better yet, let's make them creative and loving...just like me! Let's make a beautiful world for them to enjoy. Let's make them masters of their own hearts...and let's allow them to love me in return...because I AM LOVE...and that is what will make them most happy."
Enter humans,
with great potential to love and be loved.
Now, if you have ever loved, you know that love has risks, love goes beyond reason, love perseveres no matter the cost...and love is absolutely wonderful. When we love, we become our best, we become what we are meant to be. God could have created us without choice, just drones that follow his will. But he wanted us to enjoy the wild adventure, the ups and downs, the beautiful offset by the tragic, the glory of light in contrast to the depravity of darkness.
Enter evil,
the opposite of love.
"Wait a minute! Are you saying God created Evil!?" the audience protests. Tomatoes are thrown onto the stage.
Whether he created it or simply allowed it, it would not be in our world if God didn't want it to be...if it did not somehow serve a greater purpose. Is it not hardship that draws a family close? Is it not death that makes us consider our souls? Is it not an enemy who shows us our true friends? Is it not pain that leads us to healing? This wild adventure is not tame, there are roses with thorns. Evil is not something that slithered into the world when God wasn't looking. God was not taken by surprise when Eve bit into the forbidden fruit. His plan was set into motion from the very beginning. He knew all that would happen, and he knew it would all be worth it in the end.
Because Love perseveres no matter the cost.
And so, time passes, and humans thrive with truth and love written on their hearts, and humans thrive without truth and love. Families grow and prosper, armies grow and destroy. Hearts are blossomed and hearts are hardened. And God is still not surprised. But yet, he waits. Why bother inventing time if not for history to reveal its truth? History has revealed that humans need God, because they need love, because God is love. That's it. So simple. Perhaps too simple for some. Simplicity is not marketable. Simplicity has no hierarchy. Simplicity doesn't say "I'm in and you're out."
Enter religion.
Religion is living by rules rather than by love. But love has no boundary lines and doesn't play by the rules. Setting rules on love kills it. Keeping love caged with law kills it. Like evil, religion is a tool that God may use to reveal truth, but not an end to itself. Truth transcends religion, truth and love is true where ever it is found, even in the blackest pit or the highest steeple.
So, what about Jesus?
Jesus is God as a human, sent to show us the way. God with a body, sent as a sacrifice. Jesus taught with authority, he healed the sick, made the lame walk, the blind see. He got really riled up around the religious people. Actually, they were the only ones that really ticked him off. Not the prostitutes or tax collectors or lepers. Not the guys who cut a freaking HOLE in the roof to lower their crippled friend down in the middle of Jesus' teaching. Not the Samaritan woman who was known for sleeping around. Not the people who followed him around mostly looking for another meal. Not even Judas, who sold him out.
No. It was the religious folk who just didn't get it. It was the religious tables that Jesus flipped. They were expecting a king, and Jesus washed feet. They were expecting to be rewarded for keeping the rules and Jesus said it is more important to love. They were expecting to be set free from Roman rule, and Jesus taught that the Kingdom of God is in our hearts.
And so, the religious people killed him.
And God was not surprised.
This was his plan all along.
And then...
Jesus conquered death. He rose to life from the grave. And he changed the world.
I don't begin to fully understand this plan. But, for some reason, this is how we know what love is (and therefore who God is): Jesus Christ laid down his life for us. He didn't come to start a new religion, but to set us free. He came to set EVERYONE free. The religious people will tell you that you need to join a certain group or say certain words for this to be true. But when it comes to the great truths of the world, they are true always for everyone. Like gravity. It's not true only for those who believe it. It is just plain true. Simple.
But why should we believe if it doesn't matter whether we believe or not?
I'm NOT saying belief doesn't matter! I'm saying that our restoration doesn't hinge on ANYTHING we can DO. But belief changes our perspective. Believing in and following Jesus' teachings changes our life. He doesn't change us because he can't stand us, or because he has some "holier than thou" attitude (though, if anyone should, I guess it'd be God!)...He changes us, he grows our hearts, he rounds our sharp corners, he shows us joy, he strengthens us through hardships, he IS....so that we may LIVE and live the best life possible! Because humans are most fulfilled when living free and living loved! This is the GOOD NEWS that I can't keep to myself.
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Sin
Words are important to me because they are the key to good communication, which is also very important to me. Words can be destructive, enlightening, beautiful, grotesque. Some words have an emotional definition beyond the textbook meaning. They can make us angry or lift us up. How can such seemingly small things have so much power?
The word that has been on my mind a lot lately is SIN. Humor me and take a moment to think and feel what that word means to you. I think it makes some people angry, guilty, defensive. Can you define it? I think most people would agree that whatever sin is, God does not like it. I also think most people define sin as a verb (things we do). I'm beginning to think it is a noun. It is a concept, it is a thing, a condition. It is our self-destructive nature. It is what causes us to make bad decisions. It is also deceptive. It can seem like a good idea at the time. But it always leads to destruction.
And that is why God doesn't like it. Not because we let him down or because he is repulsed by us. Not because sin is something we need to be punished for, but rather we need a cure, a protection from it.
He hates sin because it hurts us.
I think that's a huge point a lot of people miss.
Such a small word,
with a huge definition,
that can shape entire belief systems,
usually in the wrong way, it seems.
The word that has been on my mind a lot lately is SIN. Humor me and take a moment to think and feel what that word means to you. I think it makes some people angry, guilty, defensive. Can you define it? I think most people would agree that whatever sin is, God does not like it. I also think most people define sin as a verb (things we do). I'm beginning to think it is a noun. It is a concept, it is a thing, a condition. It is our self-destructive nature. It is what causes us to make bad decisions. It is also deceptive. It can seem like a good idea at the time. But it always leads to destruction.
And that is why God doesn't like it. Not because we let him down or because he is repulsed by us. Not because sin is something we need to be punished for, but rather we need a cure, a protection from it.
He hates sin because it hurts us.
I think that's a huge point a lot of people miss.
Such a small word,
with a huge definition,
that can shape entire belief systems,
usually in the wrong way, it seems.
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
When Irish Eyes are Smiling
"If you want to see a clean house, make an appointment. If you just want to see me, you are welcome any time."
It became a jaunty ritual that Grandma and I had when she'd pop over after an appointment that brought her into "town". She would make an excuse as to why she did not call to let me know she was coming (I'm sure she had no intention of actually calling) and I would reply with the same response every time as I moved toys to make room for her on the couch. It was usually on the mornings when I still hadn't showered, the current baby had me up all night, and the kids had earlier created a whirling dirvish with their popcorn now left all over the living room carpet...I would happen to wearily glance out the front window and see her huge white car pull into the driveway.
Over the years, my reaction changed from:
Why can't someone pop over when my house is actually clean and I've actually had a chance to take a shower and I actually want company?
to: There's Grandma...of course.
I'd take a few deep breaths, bind my pride to the whipping post, and open the door with a cheery greeting, genuinely happy to see her.
These "surprise" visits became more frequent in the last years of Grandma's life; I am thankful that I learned to count them as blessings before they ended. I am thankful that Grandma was endeared to me in life rather than in hindsight. We were not close in my childhood. She was very busy with church and community activities, but not so busy being a grandma. I grew up knowing her as the "other" grandma and her ways were foreign to me (like Jello-based foods and used rummage sale gifts). Luckily, one of the things I learned in the hard knocks of adulthood is that everyone has a different style of love...not better or worse, just different. Love is both shined out and received though the lenses of our experiences...perhaps the rays might not be as bright or the color we are used to, but they are still there. I know that my Grandma loved me and I'm sure she knew I loved her. Ironically, that is what makes her passing easier for me.
My grandma was quite the character. I have always been proud of the Irish blood I inherited from her, and with it, I think I got some of her strong spirit. She would always speak her mind...often at great length. She loved people, liked to know and be known. She wasn't the type to get bogged down by problems, because she always had a story about someone dealing with something worse. She had a glint of blarney in her eye and was always ready to laugh. I often think of both my grandmas raising a brood of children with a 50's model husband and it makes me appreciate just how much my husband helps me. I am awed by the strength of her generation.
I visited Grandma in the hospital the afternoon before she slipped away from this earth. She was already heavily sedated awaiting the inevitable. I had hoped to hold her hand...have some sort of contact that would let her know I was there...but she was bundled up under blankets. Her appearance was a stark contrast to her vibrant personality. And it already felt like she was no longer there.
On the other hand, it feels like she is still here. Maybe it hasn't sunk in yet. Grief usually takes its sweet time and pops in to visit us when we are not ready.
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Motherhood, Breastfeeding, and Humility
At a recent appointment at our local WIC office, I saw a poster that read "Breastfed Babies Smell So Good!" I understand the need for such breast-feeding support posters but this one had the aftertaste of a political smear campaign. The next thought that came to my mind after reading that statement was "um, so bottle-fed babies STINK?"
The thing is, when I was a first-time-new-mother, such a slogan would have made me think how I'm such a good mom because I would NEVER even consider using nasty formula to feed my baby. I would nod approvingly at such a poster because it confirmed that I was doing the right thing. And, other mothers who do not make the same choices as I do are definitely inferior and probably shouldn't be allowed to care for children anyway. Well, I wasn't actually that harsh, but if I'm honest about it, there's always a black part of my heart that thinks and feels differently than I would ever like to acknowledge.
I guess the only reason I can acknowledge it now is because life has since beaten any such thoughts out of my heart. Motherhood brings many lessons in humility, many opportunities to change one's mind, and many occasions to feel guilty...no mother wants to make mistakes when it comes to her child. (Sadly, there are exceptions to the rule; lack of humility is probably most frightening and dangerous in a mother.)
My first son was breastfed for a whole year, had cloth diapers, never went to daycare, and had all homemade baby food. He never had formula, never even took a bottle. I would shake my head disapprovingly when I saw those other moms making a selection in the baby-food aisle at the grocery store. I just couldn't understand why so many moms refused to use cloth diapers. Breastfeeding didn't come easily for me, it was actually a very painful struggle, but there was no way I would have fed my baby powdered poison in a bottle.
Then, my daughter was born. She had a few minor issues in her first weeks that had us in the doctor's office too often when I needed to be home recuperating. We had recently moved a half-hour away from everything, so what used to be a quick trip became a voyage that needed to be well-planned and well-stocked. It was exhausting and isolating. Add postpartum depression and the fact that I not only had a new baby, but also a fresh 2-year-old...well, let's just say some of my ideals took a whack. For some reason, pumping breastmilk was not something I ever could fully get the hang of...not that I didn't try. In my desperation for reprieve, those formula samples the doctor gave us were starting to have more appeal. Unlike my son who never took to a bottle, my daughter loved it. SHE weened ME at 10 months. Yes, that is more than most moms BF their babies, but it was a slight failure in my eyes.
The story of my changing opinions continues into the lives of my next two children as well. It's not so much the details that I wanted to write about...it's what I've learned. I still have strong opinions about some things. But they are just that: opinions. Not rules that apply to everyone. Not opinions that I will necessarily hold to the rest of my life. It is ironic that I have become one of those other mothers by making choices that I would have disapproved of 6 years ago. I am confidant that given all my circumstances, information available, and abilities...I am doing the best I can. The "good" moms who have never swayed from their ideals may think otherwise, but it doesn't matter to me. There is freedom in not judging others....because I really believe everyone else is doing the best they can as well. Circumstances change...abilities change...opinions change...we need the freedom to allow such change. Motherhood has been the biggest responsibility, the greatest burden I've even had...and it has also brought me the most freedom and joy.
And...formula-fed babies DO NOT stink. My youngest was a horrible nurser. I stuck to it two months past my breaking point and weened him at about 4 months old. Now, we are both very happy with formula. He is the sweetest baby and smells just like a baby should smell. (Except that I would NEVER use any of those heavily-scented, paraben-laced, mineral oil-based lotions that the other mothers use to cover the natural scent of their baby! NEVER! If you could see my face, you would understand the smirk.)
The thing is, when I was a first-time-new-mother, such a slogan would have made me think how I'm such a good mom because I would NEVER even consider using nasty formula to feed my baby. I would nod approvingly at such a poster because it confirmed that I was doing the right thing. And, other mothers who do not make the same choices as I do are definitely inferior and probably shouldn't be allowed to care for children anyway. Well, I wasn't actually that harsh, but if I'm honest about it, there's always a black part of my heart that thinks and feels differently than I would ever like to acknowledge.
I guess the only reason I can acknowledge it now is because life has since beaten any such thoughts out of my heart. Motherhood brings many lessons in humility, many opportunities to change one's mind, and many occasions to feel guilty...no mother wants to make mistakes when it comes to her child. (Sadly, there are exceptions to the rule; lack of humility is probably most frightening and dangerous in a mother.)
My first son was breastfed for a whole year, had cloth diapers, never went to daycare, and had all homemade baby food. He never had formula, never even took a bottle. I would shake my head disapprovingly when I saw those other moms making a selection in the baby-food aisle at the grocery store. I just couldn't understand why so many moms refused to use cloth diapers. Breastfeeding didn't come easily for me, it was actually a very painful struggle, but there was no way I would have fed my baby powdered poison in a bottle.
Then, my daughter was born. She had a few minor issues in her first weeks that had us in the doctor's office too often when I needed to be home recuperating. We had recently moved a half-hour away from everything, so what used to be a quick trip became a voyage that needed to be well-planned and well-stocked. It was exhausting and isolating. Add postpartum depression and the fact that I not only had a new baby, but also a fresh 2-year-old...well, let's just say some of my ideals took a whack. For some reason, pumping breastmilk was not something I ever could fully get the hang of...not that I didn't try. In my desperation for reprieve, those formula samples the doctor gave us were starting to have more appeal. Unlike my son who never took to a bottle, my daughter loved it. SHE weened ME at 10 months. Yes, that is more than most moms BF their babies, but it was a slight failure in my eyes.
The story of my changing opinions continues into the lives of my next two children as well. It's not so much the details that I wanted to write about...it's what I've learned. I still have strong opinions about some things. But they are just that: opinions. Not rules that apply to everyone. Not opinions that I will necessarily hold to the rest of my life. It is ironic that I have become one of those other mothers by making choices that I would have disapproved of 6 years ago. I am confidant that given all my circumstances, information available, and abilities...I am doing the best I can. The "good" moms who have never swayed from their ideals may think otherwise, but it doesn't matter to me. There is freedom in not judging others....because I really believe everyone else is doing the best they can as well. Circumstances change...abilities change...opinions change...we need the freedom to allow such change. Motherhood has been the biggest responsibility, the greatest burden I've even had...and it has also brought me the most freedom and joy.
And...formula-fed babies DO NOT stink. My youngest was a horrible nurser. I stuck to it two months past my breaking point and weened him at about 4 months old. Now, we are both very happy with formula. He is the sweetest baby and smells just like a baby should smell. (Except that I would NEVER use any of those heavily-scented, paraben-laced, mineral oil-based lotions that the other mothers use to cover the natural scent of their baby! NEVER! If you could see my face, you would understand the smirk.)
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Stretch Marks and Depression
I was paging through a parenting magazine in the doctor's office and noticed an advertisement for some kind of lotion that is supposed to keep pregnant women from getting stretch marks. The tall, beautiful (and airbrushed) woman was saying something like "I used such-and-such cream and didn't get ANY stretch marks, even though my mother and sister did!" I'm pretty sure the unprinted message was intended to be something like "YOU, my mom and sister are idiots because if you had JUST used this lotion, you wouldn't have stretch marks....like ME! I'm mentioning my mother and sister just to show that your sorry excuse of blaming genetics for your disgusting belly is just WRONG!"
Yup, I have stretch marks. I used LOTS of lotions with my first pregnancy and got LOTS of stretch marks. I used less lotion with my second pregnancy (because it's harder to take the time to put lotion on after an elusive shower with a toddler running around) and the stretch marks climbed higher. After four babies, I am basically one big stretch mark. I have evolved enough to be genuinely happy for those women who don't have stretch marks. I can ooh-and-ahh at their bare-belly pregnancy Glamour shots with sincerity (mostly), so my sore spot with this issue is not really jealousy. It is the self-doubt. Was there something I could have done differently? Could I actually have prevented this? Maybe.
Self-doubt. Old frenemy.
Another long-time unwanted companion of mine is depression. I have suffered from a wide range of depression, from simply blue to barely-able-to-function. I am thankful to not have experienced the CAN'T-function variety...but I know it's out there. Looming. I do my best to stay proactive, to fight the good fight, to do things that I know will keep me on track, and avoid things that I know will bring me down. I have joy, thankfulness, humor, and contentment...things that help keep me afloat. But there have been at least 3 times in my life that it all wasn't good enough. Regardless of what I did, I felt like I was treading water with quick sand.
It seems that any time the topic of depression surfaces, there are always "tips" offered by the well-meaning person who has: 1. encountered some sadness, 2. did something, 3. felt better, and 4. swears that whatever s/he did is what "cured" it. And if it worked for them, it should work for everyone, right? In the well-meaner's defense, I have not been immune to this type of thinking either. I think we all do it on some level. The topic doesn't have to be depression...or stretch marks...it can apply to so many things. We grasp at the things we think we do right to quell the self doubt that tells us we are doing it all wrong.
Perhaps this sounds like a pessimistic viewpoint (I am depressed, afterall). Rather, I offer a ray of compassion on our humanity. Perhaps we ARE responsible for our failures, perhaps we are not. More likely, it's somewhere inbetween. I'm not debating the necessity of personal responsibility and good choices; I'm saying maybe we should just focus on being grateful for the good things we have and not judging or offering our unwanted "helpful" suggestions to those (including ourselves) who are struggling with something. Let's not feed the universal beast of self-doubt.
Even our faith is not our own, but a gift.
Same goes if you don't have stretch marks.
Yup, I have stretch marks. I used LOTS of lotions with my first pregnancy and got LOTS of stretch marks. I used less lotion with my second pregnancy (because it's harder to take the time to put lotion on after an elusive shower with a toddler running around) and the stretch marks climbed higher. After four babies, I am basically one big stretch mark. I have evolved enough to be genuinely happy for those women who don't have stretch marks. I can ooh-and-ahh at their bare-belly pregnancy Glamour shots with sincerity (mostly), so my sore spot with this issue is not really jealousy. It is the self-doubt. Was there something I could have done differently? Could I actually have prevented this? Maybe.
Self-doubt. Old frenemy.
Another long-time unwanted companion of mine is depression. I have suffered from a wide range of depression, from simply blue to barely-able-to-function. I am thankful to not have experienced the CAN'T-function variety...but I know it's out there. Looming. I do my best to stay proactive, to fight the good fight, to do things that I know will keep me on track, and avoid things that I know will bring me down. I have joy, thankfulness, humor, and contentment...things that help keep me afloat. But there have been at least 3 times in my life that it all wasn't good enough. Regardless of what I did, I felt like I was treading water with quick sand.
It seems that any time the topic of depression surfaces, there are always "tips" offered by the well-meaning person who has: 1. encountered some sadness, 2. did something, 3. felt better, and 4. swears that whatever s/he did is what "cured" it. And if it worked for them, it should work for everyone, right? In the well-meaner's defense, I have not been immune to this type of thinking either. I think we all do it on some level. The topic doesn't have to be depression...or stretch marks...it can apply to so many things. We grasp at the things we think we do right to quell the self doubt that tells us we are doing it all wrong.
Perhaps this sounds like a pessimistic viewpoint (I am depressed, afterall). Rather, I offer a ray of compassion on our humanity. Perhaps we ARE responsible for our failures, perhaps we are not. More likely, it's somewhere inbetween. I'm not debating the necessity of personal responsibility and good choices; I'm saying maybe we should just focus on being grateful for the good things we have and not judging or offering our unwanted "helpful" suggestions to those (including ourselves) who are struggling with something. Let's not feed the universal beast of self-doubt.
Even our faith is not our own, but a gift.
Same goes if you don't have stretch marks.
Sunday, January 30, 2011
My Cheddar Bicuits
This is my very own recipe that I came up with after watching a Red Lobster commercial. I don't like seafood, but those biscuits sure looked good! I wanted to come up with something a little healthier (and tastier, in my opinion!). I love making these on those days that I scrape together some random soup for supper. It just makes it all so much better!
2 cups flour*
2 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
1 tsp onion powder
2 tsp. sugar (optional)
5 T butter
1 cup sour milk*
1 cup shredded cheddar
*About the flour: I usually use about 1 cup whole wheat flour, 1/2 cup unbleached flour, 1/4 ground flax seed, and 1/4 oat bran...all combined to make 2 cups.
*There are different ways to make sour milk. Here's my favorite: add a splash of vinegar (probably 1-2 tsp) to your measuring cup and then top it off with milk to the called-for measurement. Let it sit for awhile. In this recipe, it's added last, so make the sour milk first and let it sit while you mix the rest. I use soy milk because one of my boys is allergic to milk.
(First make sour milk, set aside. Preheat oven to 450)
Combine 2 cups flour, 2 tsp baking soda, 1/2 tsp salt, 1 tsp onion powder, and 2 tsp. sugar (optional).
With a pastry blender, cut in 5 T butter until you have some nice buttery lumps.
Add 1 cup cheddar and toss with a fork to combine.
Add the cup of sour milk. Use fork to lightly stir, just until blended. The secret it not to over-mix. Dough will be very lumpy.
I use an ice-cream scoop to plop out the biscuits onto parchment paper. You don't have to use the paper, but it just makes life easier! I've also used non-stick aluminum foil. My cookie sheet is supposedly non-stick, but that cheese WILL stick.
Bake at 450 degrees for about 10 minutes, until golden brown. Let them cool on the pan for a little bit to firm up before trying to remove.
I hope you like them as much as I do!
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Shame
I've had a lot on my mind this week. Hurting loved ones, people making bad choices all around me, my own feelings of inadequacy, my own bad choices. I'm becoming more aware of shame and shame-driven decisions in myself and the people around me. I think the root of our life-messes is the result of acting out in shame. Guilt, embarrassment, unworthiness, disgrace, disappointment, dishonor. How much of life is just making the best of our situation?
I think this started at the very beginning when Adam and Eve were tossed out of the Garden. Come to think of it, even before that, it was shame that the serpent used to trick the first humans. "You are not good enough as you are, you need to eat this forbidden fruit so you may see as God sees and know what God knows. Your existence as you know it is not enough. You could be so much better." And then sin enters the world. Or so the story goes. The husband blames the wife, the wife blames the serpent, and all of them, deep in their hearts, blame God. He's the one that made the tree, afterall. And we all hide in shame because of one bad choice...and perhaps also hide in our shame for not trusting the One who created us.
Ironically, the main thing that promises freedom from this, is also shame-based: religion. I can't think of any religion that isn't a list of rules, a standard that we can barely attain. There's a promise of hope only if we jump through the right hoops and reach the right goals. Christians will claim their religion is "different" from all the others in that our hope is in the Christ and not in what we do. But that message is quickly diluted by a list of things we need to DO to measure up. What a double standard!
So, what is the opposite of shame? What is the key that unlocks the chains? Love. Jesus' only command was to love Him and love others. That's it! Now, how to live in that love and keep the shame from creeping in? That's a good question.
I think this started at the very beginning when Adam and Eve were tossed out of the Garden. Come to think of it, even before that, it was shame that the serpent used to trick the first humans. "You are not good enough as you are, you need to eat this forbidden fruit so you may see as God sees and know what God knows. Your existence as you know it is not enough. You could be so much better." And then sin enters the world. Or so the story goes. The husband blames the wife, the wife blames the serpent, and all of them, deep in their hearts, blame God. He's the one that made the tree, afterall. And we all hide in shame because of one bad choice...and perhaps also hide in our shame for not trusting the One who created us.
Ironically, the main thing that promises freedom from this, is also shame-based: religion. I can't think of any religion that isn't a list of rules, a standard that we can barely attain. There's a promise of hope only if we jump through the right hoops and reach the right goals. Christians will claim their religion is "different" from all the others in that our hope is in the Christ and not in what we do. But that message is quickly diluted by a list of things we need to DO to measure up. What a double standard!
So, what is the opposite of shame? What is the key that unlocks the chains? Love. Jesus' only command was to love Him and love others. That's it! Now, how to live in that love and keep the shame from creeping in? That's a good question.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Coconut Curry Chicken
This is a recipe I tore out of a Rachel Ray magazine years ago...it's simple and distinctive.
(the original recipe can be found here)
(the original recipe can be found here)
- 2 teaspoons curry powder
- One 13.5-ounce can coconut milk
- 4 skinless, boneless chicken breasts (about 2 pounds), cut into strips
- 2 teaspoons five-spice powder
- serve with rice
Heat about 1 T of olive oil in a sauce pan. Add 2 tsp curry powder and cook until it smells delicious (a minute or so)
Add the can of coconut milk and continue to cook (stirring occasionally) so that it reduces by about half.
My kids don't like the spice powder (which I found in the oriental section of our grocery store)....so I divide the chicken in half and cook half with about 1 tsp spice and the other half with just salt and pepper. Also, I've found that I really like carrots with this recipe. The sweetness of the carrots is a nice contrast to the spice and curry. AND you have a veggie built in! In this case, I'm using julienne-cut, but halved baby carrots are great too.
By now, the coconut milk will have been reduced to a nice sauce. You can mix it all together, or serve separately over rice. (I like Basmati)
I usually don't care for leftovers, but I love this for lunch the next day. I toss it all together and heat up on the stove, fried rice style.
Saturday, January 22, 2011
Driver's Ed...for the rest of your life.
My feelings about attending an institutional church in respectful satire.
So...you'd like to drive a car? All you need to do is "receive" a license! You'll love driving...you'll find greater purpose in your life! In fact, when you can drive a car, good things will start to come your way. You'll be so happy driving that you won't even want to do any horrible things...like jaywalking.
Well, now that you are getting started with driving on your own, you really should start coming to our weekly Driver's Education classes. Yeah, you might be able to drive just fine, but you really need that weekly support to keep you from driving clear off the road! Our Driver's Ed teacher spent a long time studying the Driver's Manual, so he's just better equipped to better explain all the complicated rules of driving to you. It's really important that you are the best driver you can be. It would just make my heart sad to hear that you forgot to use your turn signals a few times. Actually, class once a week probably isn't enough. You can come to my house to meet with a few other couples from our class and we can talk even more about Driver's Ed. We'll even commit to being your friends. It doesn't matter if we have totally different personalities and interests....the only interest that really matters is driving...right? Besides, don't you feel a little bad for your old friends who don't go to your class? At least some of them go to another class, but, well, their teacher just isn't as good as ours is.
It's so exciting that you are so involved with our Driver's Ed class. Don't worry that you don't have any interactions with anyone other than your fellow classmates. There are a lot of crazy people out there doing crazy things like horseback riding, snowmobiling, walking...you know the type. Yeah, we still have to love those types. We just have to do our best to convince them to drive a proper car, just like us. Did you hear we're planning a special "outreach" program to try to get more people to join our Driver's Ed class?...um...I mean...we just want them to learn to drive and have a good life.
Well...now we need to talk about something that will make you a really good driver. You should probably donate 10% of your income to the Driver's Ed class. It's just a good practice for you. Oh, and we need to pay for the building we hold our class in. And we need to pay the Driver's Ed teacher...and the teacher's secretary...and everyone else who probably wouldn't do what they do for the class if we didn't pay them. Some of us really don't like to drive, so some of the money can go to pay others to drive for us. We could also buy a big bus and form committees to car pool. It all costs money. But it's not about money, it's just about driving, after all.
I could go on and on.... My intention is not to mock. And metaphors are not perfect. I don't go to church anymore and I want to start talking about it. This metaphor popped in to my head as a good way to voice some of my feelings about the institutional church. Let me just say I have no problem with anyone who chooses to attend a church, and I sincerely love the people I met while I did. But for me, it would be just as silly as going to Driver's Ed for the rest of my life. I have not lost my faith. I'm not saying I am unteachable or that I know everything. I'm just saying I want to drive and I'll continue to learn as I go down the road.
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Resolutions
The most over-used, under-achieved New Year's resolution has got to be "I will lose weight." As I said before, I shy away from resolutions to begin with...I won't touch that one with the proverbial ten-foot pole. I do need to lose weight, but I've found I usually fail whenever that becomes my focus. I need to focus on being healthy and making good choices that will make me feel better.
I'm at an exciting (for me) turning point in my life. I've been pregnant five times in the last 8 years...and I don't plan on being pregnant ever again. I've gone up and down in size so many times, and I never took losing weight very seriously because...well...I was usually pregnant again! My major downfall is that I hate exercise. I keep telling myself that if I keep doing it, I'll eventually learn to like it. I have a feeling that is a long way off. I will persevere because I know it will make me a better person...and better able to keep up with my 4 kids. But I still hate it.
A big thrill for me has been getting rid of maternity clothes...and even some of the in-between clothes. And definitely the old-too-small clothes. It feels so good to "clean house". Recently, I have to keep reminding myself when I shop for clothes that I need to only buy clothes that FIT NOW. I don't need "expanding" clothes for a pregnancy and I don't need those "wishful thinking" too-small clothes. It is so much better to be realistic and just be comfortable with the way I am now. If I need a smaller size in the future...well, that's a good reason to do a little shopping!
Another aspect of "cleaning house" for me has been releasing baby stuff. Once my youngest boy and only girl grow out of something...I can get rid of it! That sounds pretty basic, but it's actually a new way of thinking for me...and it feels great! I'm learning new ways of thinking about a lot of things. I am learning to live in the freedom of God's love. I am simplifying some things, and getting more involved in others. Rather than having a "grin and bear it" attitude about our crazy life and current schedule (my husband is in school and working nights), I want to enjoy these moments along the way. I want to have a more positive focus. I want to dance more. I want to make more time for friends. I want to love my husband, and love him very well. I want to take control where I can to minimize my frustrations with the day to day. I want to always be aware that almost anything I'm doing is not as important as reading the book that my son is waving in front of me.
I'm at an exciting (for me) turning point in my life. I've been pregnant five times in the last 8 years...and I don't plan on being pregnant ever again. I've gone up and down in size so many times, and I never took losing weight very seriously because...well...I was usually pregnant again! My major downfall is that I hate exercise. I keep telling myself that if I keep doing it, I'll eventually learn to like it. I have a feeling that is a long way off. I will persevere because I know it will make me a better person...and better able to keep up with my 4 kids. But I still hate it.
A big thrill for me has been getting rid of maternity clothes...and even some of the in-between clothes. And definitely the old-too-small clothes. It feels so good to "clean house". Recently, I have to keep reminding myself when I shop for clothes that I need to only buy clothes that FIT NOW. I don't need "expanding" clothes for a pregnancy and I don't need those "wishful thinking" too-small clothes. It is so much better to be realistic and just be comfortable with the way I am now. If I need a smaller size in the future...well, that's a good reason to do a little shopping!
Another aspect of "cleaning house" for me has been releasing baby stuff. Once my youngest boy and only girl grow out of something...I can get rid of it! That sounds pretty basic, but it's actually a new way of thinking for me...and it feels great! I'm learning new ways of thinking about a lot of things. I am learning to live in the freedom of God's love. I am simplifying some things, and getting more involved in others. Rather than having a "grin and bear it" attitude about our crazy life and current schedule (my husband is in school and working nights), I want to enjoy these moments along the way. I want to have a more positive focus. I want to dance more. I want to make more time for friends. I want to love my husband, and love him very well. I want to take control where I can to minimize my frustrations with the day to day. I want to always be aware that almost anything I'm doing is not as important as reading the book that my son is waving in front of me.
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
It's a New Year!
I have never appreciated "New Year's Resolutions" because I tend to shy away from anything that even resembles a broken promise. 2009 was a horrible year for us. 2010 found us the "poorest" we've ever been, with the busiest schedule we've ever had, and the most children we've ever had to wrangle. I think I have grown more in the last two years than I have in a long time. Though this patch has been terribly difficult, it has been so sweet. I appreciate things like I never have before. I am starting to feel comfortable in my own skin. I am no longer waiting for "that thing" to come and change my life...whatever that may be. Every day IS my life and I am doing what I (no one else) was created to do. As simple as that sounds, it is profound to me.
There have been times that I have felt like a leaf floating down the rapids of life. I stayed afloat by keeping above the water and not feeling its depths. I closed off certain parts of me so I could focus on the problems at hand. None of this is conscious, of course, and none of it is as simple as a story that can be told. Now, to take the metaphor a little further, I feel like I have a pretty good boat. I'm learning the correct ways use my oars.
I'm excited about 2011. And for the first time, I actually have some resolutions....because I know that I have the power to keep them.
There have been times that I have felt like a leaf floating down the rapids of life. I stayed afloat by keeping above the water and not feeling its depths. I closed off certain parts of me so I could focus on the problems at hand. None of this is conscious, of course, and none of it is as simple as a story that can be told. Now, to take the metaphor a little further, I feel like I have a pretty good boat. I'm learning the correct ways use my oars.
I'm excited about 2011. And for the first time, I actually have some resolutions....because I know that I have the power to keep them.
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